


Nature of Unlearning

by fizzypunk



Category: Naruto
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Reflection, neji is healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:47:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24369085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzypunk/pseuds/fizzypunk
Summary: A moment of peace, and realizing that healing comes in waves.
Kudos: 8





	Nature of Unlearning

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for clicking <3 i love neji so much, and it's such a tragedy that he never got the chance to heal. he deserved so much better than he got;;;
> 
> posted on tumblr @ mintyfics

Neji takes walks outside at night when he has the time to do so, between missions and training and instructing Hinata. It could easily be mistaken as a leisurely stroll, and it could easily look trite and unimportant, and a lot of those assumptions would be wrong. It’s a typical reality of a shinobi, and as a Hyuuga, to simply not have the time. As it stands, Neji never has time that wasn’t consumed with training or missions, or time that could be put to use not being spent in the constant realm of a shinobi. 

Tonight was one of those nights, and he walked under a half moon after parting ways with Kakashi. Though they both need to file their reports on the mission they were returning from, Kakashi agreed that he would be the one to file their official report for the night. He knew Neji’s habits well enough, and let him go on his own way without question or complaint. As soon as they entered through the main street gate, Neji was gone.

As a kid, he wasn’t able to think about such things as  _ leisure _ and  _ reflection _ and the nonchaotic, but he couldn’t find it in himself to miss that. Often he’ll find himself remembering how he used to be, and he appreciates that he’s not  _ that  _ any more.

Not as jaded. Not as  _ branded _ . 

It was thanks to the chunin exams that Neji gets to live the life he does. It’s not that life is particularly better, and his clan has definitely not changed for the better in the past few years. With age, the elders have grown more cruel and smiting. Though, as small a mercy it is, at least now Neji will find himself miles away on missions more often than not, and the extent of the Hyuuga fate can only reach as far as the main house can  _ see _ .

No, it’s thanks to the chunin exams that Neji can live his current life, and not feel bitter toward it. Unlearning fate was the challenge, and it still comes in waves of grief and guilt and hate and anger. Some days feel like fire, and he’ll wonder if this is what Konoha means by  _ the will of fire _ . 

Those days pass. And when fate is unlearned yet again, it also comes with an understanding that peace exists. It exists, like the way flowers exists, like the way seasons exist. Peace is the draw back of the tide, before the tidal wave, and it’s to be cherished.

Like on nights like tonight. Neji was in the fields, the ones that border on the edge of the Nara land: A windy plains where the only thing in sight is wheat, brimmed with mountains, and the distant sight of the village walls atop the tree-line. The moon was at its height, and at its brightest despite being only half full. 

He sat down in the tall grasses, surrounded with a field that was quiet and windblown and smelt faintly of jasmine. 

Neji’s body was tired -- bruised knees, elbow hyperextended and tactfully set back into place but still aching, and the soles of his feet tender even still as they were kicked up in front of him. And though his eyes throbbed with overuse, and the thought of even  _ looking _ was an agony, he couldn’t take his eyes off the scenery. Off the little leaves on the weeds between the grass in front of him, or the way the tree tops at the far end of the field seemed to glow under the sky.

_ Yes, _ he smiled,  _ things have changed. _ Though anger still holds his heart steady, and he can feel it when bitterness starts to invade, he never thought he’d ever feel  _ joy _ at the sight of something as mundane and known as his home village. He never thought that, of anything,  _ trees _ would make him smile.

And yet here he is. Smiling.


End file.
